


An Unexpected Turn of Events

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, The Quidditch Pitch: More Than Two, Threesome, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-15
Updated: 2007-01-15
Packaged: 2018-10-27 16:32:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Hermione thinks her lovelife with Fred is fantastic. But it's about to take on a whole new dimension.





	An Unexpected Turn of Events

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

 

My favorite part is the teasing. As in everything he does, Fred fucks like he wants to watch you squirm. As if he's testing limits. 

"Mmm...please," I hear myself murmur, but only vaguely, like when you hear something from a distance that's not meant for your ears. 

"You really want to finish so soon?" he asks, smirking. 

Which I don't answer, because he knows I don't. Not yet. Knows I love every prolonged lick, every unfinished twist of the nipple, each too-gentle nibble of the clit. All designed to take me _near_ , but not there. Because my favorite part is the teasing. 

He hauls me on top of him and settles onto his back, but doesn't push into me. Not yet. 

Although I do take the opportunity to grind hard against the length of him, to enjoy a little friction. 

He grips my arse in reaction to the sudden move, and now it's his turn to moan. But he recovers quickly, shooting me a conspiratorial smile and lifting his hips just slightly, maybe to pay me back? And when he slides a hand up to my breast and unceremoniously rolls a nipple between thumb and forefinger, well...my momentary control wanes. 

But being in control is often overrated, and I decide I'll relish the seductive appeal of submissiveness. For tonight, at least. 

Before we get far, though, we hear the telltale crack of Apparition and look up to George standing in front of us, slack-jawed and frozen where he stands. 

"Sod off George, we're a bit busy here," says Fred, as if this is a regular occurrence. He doesn’t move his hands from my body or even look at his brother. 

But _I'm_ looking at him. And you'd think I'd cover myself, or move to get off of Fred, but for some reason neither of these things occurs to me. 

What does occur to me is to reprimand Fred. It's not George's fault, after all, that we never moved from the living room to the bedroom before getting into this. 

"Fred, stop. I don't mind."  
  
My words -- although randomly chosen -- give me pause. I was referring to the interruption, but in truth I _don't_ mind, even if he sees more than that. Why don't I mind? 

I'm looking at George, who's frozen where he stands, also wondering how to interpret what I said. 

And then Fred's cock bucks beneath me, demanding attention, reminding me that it's still there, and that's he's still hard. The interruption hasn’t changed that. And when I look down at him, he’s beaming at me.

He whispers, "You? You're naughty. You _like_ him watching." 

What turns him on about this? Is it another tease? Bragging about something that he has but his brother covets, like a new toy on Christmas? Or is he really just that much of a showman?  
  
In those crucial few moments that this is all turning over in my head, I can't help but feel the heat of George looking at my bare breasts, his eyes dark. 

I find the answer to Fred's question, but I don't say it out loud. _Yes, I do. I_ _do like him watching._

George takes a couple of steps backward, without turning away, and suddenly I'm less concerned about the awkwardness of the situation than I am worried that the moment -- _the opportunity?_ \-- will pass. 

"Wait--" I say, but have nothing to add after it. 

It stills him though, and he does wait. And so I communicate what I need to say in a different way. I keep my eyes on George and begin to move again. Experimentally roll against Fred, wetter now than before. Much wetter.

"Fuck," breathes Fred beneath me, in arousal or amazement, I'm not sure which, because I don't look down. 

I keep my eyes locked with George, inviting him -- or maybe pleading with him -- to stay. And he nods slowly at me, unmistakably a promise that he will.

This little nod of his head, above all else, sends a shiver through me and a bolt of heat straight to my core. Which is a nice place to be when Fred's hands resume their wandering.  
  
As to Fred, he seems to endorse the new arrangement, but I ask anyway. "This okay?"  
  
"Does it get you hot?"

I flush at the admission, but glance to George and answer honestly. "Yes."  
  
"The, _fuck yeah_ , it’s okay," he says, chuckling a bit, letting his hands splay out across my tummy, thumbs beginning to drift downward.  
  
Finally, out of necessity, I close my eyes and just feel, let myself catch up to the situation. I had been feeling so bold, and then with a few words from Fred, to confirm that this was really about to happen, and I am suddenly a bit dizzy.  
  
But as Fred's thumb grazes the top of my clit, every instinct in my body screams at me to _move_.  
  
And so I do. 

I raise myself up on my knees a bit and reach down to wrap a hand around Fred's cock. Before I can guide it in, though, I catch sight of George and I pause. Something drives me to try a different approach: to make this good for him, too, not just some fantasy of mine.  
  
I release Fred and turn around completely. I'm still straddling him, but he sits up so my back is against his chest. The view is much better for George this way, and apparently I've decided I don't want him to miss a thing.  
  
Fred seems to know what I'm thinking, or wanting, because I don't have a chance to speak it before his hands are weaving around me, kneading my breasts, while mine slide down to touch myself. I nearly gasp at how wet I am, and immediately groan with the satisfaction of finally having some direct contact on my aching clit, which is by now throbbing for attention. 

"George," I say. Because this is somehow for him. And yet selfish, because it makes it all the better for me. At first he's in shadow, George is, but then he gets braver and moves back to the center of the room, finally settling on the chair across from us.  
  
He's not five feet away, right in front of me. He can see, and oh God, probably _hear_ everything. Better than Fred or I, in fact, and knowing that drives me mad, and spurs me on, and I begin to quicken my pace with my hands. 

I can feel the warmth and strength of Fred's long fingers, where one hand is now exploring the roundness of my arse, dipping inside and down, down, seeking the softness and wetness that is hidden there. 

I tremble, breathless. 

I check on George, needing that rush I felt in his hungry eyes a minute ago. And he gives it in full force, eyes meeting my mine. 

And then he groans the deepest, sexiest noise ever - a low, instinctive release of a moan that can mean nothing other than him touching himself - and the thrill of hearing it almost makes me climax right here and now, even before I see it. 

And then, bloody hell, I see it. 

Cock in hand, he keeps his eyes locked on mine and begins to stroke. 

Behind me, Fred has taken over the ministrations between my legs, so I slide my hands up my body and begin to play with my tits. This something I usually prefer to have someone else take care of, but the brothers _love_ it, and voice their approval. I surprise myself, even, with my roughness as I pinch my nipples, all the while careful not to block George's view. 

Really warming to this whole idea now (which is putting it mildly since I can feel his rock hard cock against my arse) Fred begins to whisper little naughty things to spur me on: "...go ahead, Baby, show him what you want...that's it...let him see how amazing you are..." 

I know George must hear him, but he doesn't acknowledge it. Instead, he quietly whispers my name while continuing to touch himself.  
  
If I were brave enough to ask, or if he were brave enough to not wait to be asked, I'd pull him in. Let Fred do whatever wicked things he wants with the rest of me as long as I could kiss George, answer the silent question he's asking me now.  
  
But somehow this is almost sexier than if he had permission to touch. Like what's happening between us is almost more intimate than the rough, amazing things Fred is doing to my clit, and his long fingers scissoring inside me.  
  
"You want me inside now?" comes Fred's voice in my ear, a bit croaky. I can feel him rubbing the head of his cock at my entrance.  
  
"Nnnn…yeah," I answer in a bit of a whine, as I reach my behind my head to thread my fingers into his hair. This gives George an unobstructed view of every part of me. Given that I'm still up on my knees, I'm guessing he can see me sliding down onto his brother's thick cock as well. 

Fred has no leverage to thrust, so he reaches up to pull down on my shoulders, forcing himself up into me, and filling me completely. 

_Oh, my._

But I don't stay there long. 

I'm still on my knees.

And you know, my favorite part is the teasing. 

So I raise myself back up, and then come down smooth again. It feels spectacular. Fred moans and grips my hips, and George's breathing is laboured now as he pumps and watches me move. 

I don't know what feels better: Fred’s cock inside me or George's eyes all over me.

But I'm beyond comparing now; it's all wrapped up in one package deal, and when 

Fred fumbles to reach up to play with my tits again, I can't stop myself from starting to slide up and down his shaft. 

"Oh, fuck," says Fred, voice strained. "You're amazing, Love. Keep going...so hot..." 

I slow to a grind, and as I feel the tightening, the escalating ache, it’s George I look to, and his name that I mutter. 

Fred apparently has no objection to this. In fact, it makes him crazy. "Yeah," he says, "pretend it's George fucking you...you want him inside you..." 

"Yes," I moan, which does it for George. I hear him grunting, and uttering various profanities. 

"George--" I say in a panic, thinking he'll run away now. 

"No, no. Don't worry. I'm still here." 

Fred uses the pause to roll me forward, on all fours, so he can get up behind me, and he immediately starts thrusting again. His rhythm is shot to hell, so I know he's close to finishing. 

And with the new angle, so am I. He hits my sweet spot with every push, and mercifully, reaches around me to roughly drag his fingertips across my clit. The lack of precision has its own raw appeal. I hang my head a bit and when I turn it to the side, George is the first thing I see. 

"Wanna see you come,” he whispers. “Come for me, Hermione." 

It's all too much; one brother's touch, one brother's words... 

And finally I come apart, collapsing to my elbows, shuddering and nearly screaming. 

"Shite," says Fred, following right along with me after a few incredibly hard thrusts that extend my ride. 

The expression 'made me see stars' springs to mind; I've always considered it hyperbole before, but there they are, floating around my boneless form on the settee. 

"Okay?" Fred whispers to me. I nod, and I hear him exchange a few words with George. And then suddenly Fred is wrapping a blanket around me, and I see George putting his cloak back on. I scramble to my shaky feet and rush up to him. 

"You don't need to go," I say, placing my hand on his arm. 

"I know,” he says, smiling down at me. “I'm just gonna get some air. I'll be home later." And then for the first time tonight, he touches me. Wraps his arms around and pulls me into an embrace. It's absurd, how intimate it feels, given what we just did. 

"We'll figure it out, yeah?" he says, releasing me and turning to go. 

I don't know if that's his way of apologizing or if he's promising something else entirely, but all I can do is nod as he Disapparates and I feel Fred approach me from behind. 

 

 


End file.
